Final Vinyl: Thee Best Way To Wrap Up Junior Year

Alright, I haven’t done this for a while–even though MOST of it is not just because of procrastination–I actually have a lot to do nowadays (funny, I thought it was summer break) and it has been fun! The majority of my time consumption was in “Final Vinyl“, a brand new musical written by Kevin Frei for the purpose of being performed for high school audiences, and IT WAS. As fate would have it, the aspiring writer/director/producer/etc. decided to embark his new musical upon the multitude of students at Hamilton High School. So of course, I auditioned.

In the past, I worked with the usual HHS theatrical people in productions such as: Wyrd Sisters, Music Man, and Arsenic and Old Lace (not to mention a LOT of Urban Lemmings Shows). And each one had something I felt strangely uncomfortable with. In Wyrd Sisters, I just felt out of place; I was a freshmen, it was my first play, and I knew NO ONE. During Music Man, I was going through some weird depressive teenage self-rejecting phase and I didn’t give the project everything I believed I could have. During Arsenic, everything seemed better. I knew all of the cast members, I was getting along with them great, the play was fun to do, but something was missing. There was always some sort of cold feeling in the air.

Then–due to a course of events (yes, a course not just a single incident)–I decided to opt out of the high school theatre department altogether (with the exception of Urban Lemmings because I need some sort of outlet next year). With my new value of straying from auditions at Hamilton, I felt way too free, and my creativity was starting to overflow in my head. And that’s pretty much where the birth of this blog even originated from. Damn, it’s where my old love for writing re-sparked! I started reading more, I started writing more, and I slowly and gradually became obsessed! I was obsessed with stories, and meaning, symbolism, inner-battles, character conflicts; I became obsessed with girls who wanted to commit suicides, and a guy who lives home alone, and music, and… and… It all came flowing out of me. Through a pen.

So, what brought me to Final Vinyl? Was it to spite everyone who thought I was quitting the art of theatre? Was it to show everyone I had what it took to handle a major role? Was it because I needed an outlet other than writing to express my creativity? Was it because deep down somewhere I never wanted to quit in the first place? Was it that I wanted to have one more show with some of best friends? Did I want to make amends? Did I want to instigate more arguments and more conflicts, because the drama–despite it being torture to my mind–was somewhat…fun? Yes, a little of everything.

After auditions I landed the part of Meredith Pax (yep, a woman). When I saw the cast list I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of familiar disappointment. I went home that day and did some thinking. I honestly thought about dropping, I was on jumping off-board streak anyway so what should stop me from dropping this? Better, yet what MADE me want to stay? Well, when I got home I get the familiar “pop” of a Facebook IM. My friend Michael Falcon congradulated me on getting the role, and I asked, “Why? It’s a woman.”

Michael’s advice was probably the best advice anyone has given me all year.

He laughed. He laughed a lot. Michael LOL’ed and ROFL’ed and HAHA’ed, and I just sat there on the other end of the screen. At first I blankly stared, and then I started to chuckle.”It would be so funny seeing you as a woman, dude.” Thanks Mike, I tarzan.

I guess I needed someone to laugh at my problems. Everyone else confirmed to me that the end of the world was near, and I guess what I needed to hear was someone laugh at my problems. It made me realize there’s worse out there, and that no matter what character you play it’s still not as funny as a guy dressed in drag.

Alright, so I’m on board now what? Rehearsals! The rehearsals were…strenuous. I never did so much dancing, and singing, and running, and high-pitched vocal delivery of lines. I had marvelous directors though. Leah Koestner, the singing director, was awesome to work with. She was patient, cool, and even BRUTAL when she needed to be. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever learned as much on the topic of singing as I did with her. Kelvin Harper, the choreographer, was seriously way cool. Too cool for school possibly. I always felt like I was a super badass when I was doing one of his dances (minus “Gay Old Music”).

Yet the memories are great too. I didn’t feel the cold and cruel vibe a regular Hamilton production would usually have on the set. I felt warmth. Everyone was there for everyone. There was rarely any conflct and rarely any worry. Yes, there was still the ridiculous–no–the LUDICROUS freakouts that are totally uncalled for and unnecessary (come on guys, it’s a play), and yes, people still took themselves way too seriously, but it didn’t matter. There was a glow within the heart of this production, and despite all doubt and previous judgement it didn’t burn out.

It was truly spectacular to have Final Vinyl be my final high school play.

The Third Beginning of the Third Year

In a nocturnal state, the consciousness of humans are questionable to be reasonable or not. This entire night is a stringing between Sunday and Monday; when sleep is scarce you perceive everything as one day. I reflect upon the scrutiny that accompanied the past three terms of a high school career. When all others are sound and undisturbed in their slumbers, I am relinquished from responsibility, the rules of honor, faulty respect, and the anonymous doppelganger I erect like a mannequin to society. My mind is no longer bombarded by the ripples caused by distress and problems. I am a still pond. A body of water.

Through a shallower tone, I stay up to enjoy every second left of this annual recess of school and responsibility. I clench to the peak of a cliff trying not to fall back into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the ravine. Holding on for dear life. I realize that my mentality becomes a simple parody of the treatment and lifestyle of a high school. During the hours of the “bell dictator” I replace my lack of sleep for lack of control. The teacher has the last say now. The parent has the last say now. The GPA has the last say now.

During the twilight of these hours, however, I find refuge in my mind. I can come to terms with my faults. Realize what I have done wrong and right. Plan, and then plan to execute. I can imagine silly goals, realistic potentials, and tap into the most creative parts of my being. Yet, merely hours await until I must return to the fight. Return to the jungle of hormone influenced teenage world.

Tomorrow school resumes:

• AP English – It’s a disgrace that the career I most long to follow is at the dusk of the school’s hours. Hours I cannot function within and find difficult to stay awake. My physical limitations are the only thing keeping me from complete success in this class. I currently hold a B.
• APUSH – Whether its goofing around with a friend or not taking the teacher as seriously as I should, my childish persona outweighs my strive for intellectual knowledge of the past, present, and future of our society and economical trends. The tests seem intricate and greatly detailed. Some people get this class better than others. I have a D.
• Math – Simple really. I’m quiet here. No one of great interest to talk to and I find my personality would be way too upbeat to custom the majority. I have a C.
• APAC – Due to past incidents and tribulations, a theme of betrayal and deceit, and a growing hatred for the very seams of the curriculum. This class has become profoundly emotional. I have given pieces of my soul to every student in this classroom and have a strong connection for them all truly, yet I grow more and more hatred for the atmosphere itself. Something doesn’t add up. I have a D, barely.
• AP Psychology – This is the most mellow class. Closely imitating the atmosphere of a television sitcom, I cannot help but expect a “Boy Meets World” logo to suddenly appear on screen and a short sponsored commercial to follow. Every word I say in this class is perfectly rehearsed and delivered. This wins the prize of most comfortable. I have a C.
• Chemistry – Oddly enough, the class that has proven to have one of the  strictest teacher is also the one that I best feel most knowledgeable in. The topic of chemistry flows easily into my mental capacity and I take full responsibility for last quarters D for not doing my homework when I should.

This is the grounds I currently stand on with each of these classes.

This is what I resume tomorrow.